I call on every Irishman to listen to my song
About the Anglo-Saxon it wont detain you
long,
Two hundred and fifty Emigrant's from Ire-
land did set sail,
They bid adieu both men and crew to poor
old Granuaile.

From Liverpool this ship set sil for Quebec
and Montreal.
In a fog on the 27th of April they could not
see at all,
Near to Cape Race our good ship stuck most
dismal for to view.
The waves did dash, the ship did crash, and
then she went in two.

To see the mothers dressed in white tossed on
the briny wave.
Saying aloud to heaven and the crew their
children then to save.
Noone was there to save the wreck no, no,
nor time to pray,
They were opprersed poor Irishmen at home
they could not stay.

The Good ship went in pieces 'inidlt raging
dashing spray,
All were distressedand moaning up,. the rag-
ing sea,
The mothers screaming lodly-mny infants,
husbands save,
While their shrill cr-, would make you sigh-
they sank beneath the wave.

Captain Burgess had the engines immediately
reversed,
While sever I of those Emigrants stood shiver.
ing and undressed;
That cruel treacherous cragy rock had lurked
beneath the wave,
To finish Devastation's work on Irrshmen so
brave.

Poor Irishmen are wasting now on sea as well
as land,
Between war and tribulations they can't much
longer stand;
They fought, 'ti true, for England, a thousand
battles o'er,
But now they're leaving Ireland, ne'er to re-
turn more.

The American war going on abroad which fills
the land with lood,
While thous nds aie go ug from Kinsale, for
want of work or food;
Their houses in Saist Patiick's land are lev6l-
S ed to the ground,
Andgood n:ea now so happy onc, ar. no where
to be found.

The masts ard spars and rigging went just as
she broke in two,
The boats belonging to the ship could hold but
very few;
The drowning bodies floating round would
pierce your hearts full sore,
May the Lord have mercy on their souls they
were from country tore.